Who Is Good?

"Out beyond ideas
of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field:
I'll meet you there."
~ Rumi 

What can outward appearances tell you, with perfect assurance, of the inward workings of the soul? Even supposing that we may judge approximately the spiritual elevation of a soul, it must be far more difficult, if not quite impossible, to discover the extent to which that soul is "gaining heavenly ground" or merely resting on spiritual laurels previously acquired. A certain man gains by abstaining from one lie in ten, while another man loses ground if he merely dispenses one lie in the midst of a thousand truths. True it is, that each is judged by the same rule, but, not as though each had the same powers at his disposal. A soul is judged according to its own place, and this is something relatively uncertain to mortal eyes, if not entirely obscure.

Contentment, -- the sweet assurance of a mind at rest, or else actively engaged in some pursuit perfectly congenial to itself, -- often passes as a credible indicator of the soul's disposition with regard to the infinite. But if we only take a moment to reflect upon it, we cannot fail to call to mind men who are, or who at least seem to be, quite happy, yet whose actions are of a disorderly and even pernicious sort, when regarded in relation to a more far-reaching perspective than they themselves possess. Likewise, or conversely, we may recall men of a downcast mind and a melancholy spirit, who nonetheless take careful measure of their steps, endeavoring not to set their foot upon an evil path. That their conscience is of a more sensitive variety, so that it stings them most vehemently and perpetually, does not at all signify that they are, in fact, guiltier men, or that their crimes are nearly so deplorable as they appear to themselves. On the contrary, how many little sins does a brute man commit in the course of his day, which do not occur to him as sins in the least, but as sources of the most undisturbed pleasure; -- sins which would bring a more tender spirit to his knees? It does not occur to a beast to reflect upon himself before he finds himself beside a still water, while the faculty of self-reflection has become all but habitual in the experience of a civilized person; he has no need for a glass to be set before him in order to be set before himself. He discovers, perhaps a hundred times in the course of a day, how unlike his countenance is to that of the angels in heaven. But the beast, who is, nonetheless, far more ugly, makes no such comparison, and walks unmolested by the pangs of conscience.

Notwithstanding these considerations, the figure which a man cuts in his own estimation, while it may not reflect the true condition of his soul, is not irrelevant by any means; since what is evil for a better man is nothing, or may even be a form of virtue, when practiced by a lesser one. And since every soul must be judged along this sliding-scale, with respect to its own unique endowments, and not with regard to any common standard of righteousness, we must conclude that the inward condition of every soul is something mysteriously hidden from view, which only God may reveal, if He will, to the discernment of men.

God alone knows which actions are truly good, and for whom they remain truly good; since the value of an action in itself and the value which it has for the one who manifests it are not identical. The miracle, no doubt, is from God, and good, but the man for whom miracles have become commonplace must take less and less credit for the good which is done by God through him. He must continually out-do himself, for it is no exercise of virtue for him to perform only those good deeds which come all-too readily to his hand. Indeed, if he is worthy of sainthood, he must even become as nothing, to be something more than he already is.

See, then, how truly difficult it is to discover the goodness of a soul, when not the height to which he has climbed, but the constancy and speed with which he ascends each rung, however low or exalted in itself, bears greater witness to his virtue. Moreover, how mysterious does the process appear, when we reflect that the man who progresses in the perfection of God does so, more and more, by the power of God, and not by his own will?

Only the progress of the weaker soul depends upon that soul's will. What such a one must strain to accomplish through the most formidable exertions, a more elevated soul must, rather, refrain from performing; instead, abdicating his will and allowing divine providence to manifest itself through him. So that, the greater a man is in some sense, the lesser he is in another; the more does God work through and for him.

Is this not why the saints regard themselves as being scant in virtues? Perhaps this not some mere trick of the mystical mind. Perhaps the witness they bear, even as it regards themselves, is not in error. Perhaps the greatest among us really are the least. And we -- who are we, who try so desperately, by our own wiles and wills, to effect the good things of God, all the while reckoning up our own goodness, or the goodness of one man over another? In truth, we are all as nothing, in relation to the infinite God, who alone is good.